


Just a Number

by sunryder



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunryder/pseuds/sunryder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan and Rogue had been given a pile of money to hunt down Lehnsherr and Xavier. The trouble was, it was hard to kill the two people who made a school where Marie felt safe. </p>
<p>Even harder when they were encouraging him to tell Marie how he felt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Readbyanalise010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readbyanalise010/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[Podfic-As-Art Masterpost] Logan & Rogue in a Detective AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/960277) by [Readbyanalise010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readbyanalise010/pseuds/Readbyanalise010), [sunryder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunryder/pseuds/sunryder). 



> All the love in the world to readbyanalise010. This was the first time I've used a podfic as a prompt and she saw me through all of my stumbling blocks. Go listen to the podfics, they're lovely!

 

> Here is where you'll want to listen to the first podcast done by readbyanalise010

 

@@@ 

 

It was… a school.

 

The plaque on the front gate said it was a school, the children running around smelled like library and gym class, the teenagers sprawled on the lawn were complaining about “why they had to learn stupid calculus anyway,” and there was a gaggle of twelve-year-olds scribbling in their notebooks and following a furry blue mutant through a garden while he explained photosynthesis.

 

So far as Wolverine’s nose, ears, and eyes could tell—it _really was_ a school.

 

He’d taken the job to hunt down Lehnsherr and Xavier because Sebastian Shaw had somehow managed to get through layers of vague connections to find Logan’s real phone number. Shaw had called him in a panic about his godson being kidnapped, and Logan had believed him. The boy’s father (“Warren Worthington!” Marie shouted. “How do you not know who Warren Worthington is?”) had died a few months before. The world had been told it was natural causes, but now mutant supremacists had kidnapped the son. Or so Shaw said. He had called Logan because The Wolverine was the one you wanted when you needed a mutant handled and no one else could manage the job.

 

Shaw admitted that there had been no threats or demands from the kidnappers, but in his bones he knew it was a mutant named Erik Lehnsherr.

 

Shaw ranted and rambled about his torrid history with Lehnsherr, but Logan didn’t give a shit since every word was a lie. Muddled with the story Shaw was weaving, bits of useful information floated up to the surface. Lehnsherr was a metallokinetic, and judging by the edge of unease in Shaw’s scent, he was powerful enough that he made Shaw nervous.  

 

Shaw slapped a thick file on the desk and flicked through, highlighting all Lehnsherr’s supposed crimes against humanity. Logan had to give credit to Shaw’s forger, the documents were impressive. If Logan hadn’t been in the aftermath of some of those “crimes” (most of which were perpetuated _against_ mutants rather than forthem), he might’ve bought Lehnsherr’s culpability. The lies meant that Lehnsherr was either the best supremacist Logan had never heard of, or Lehnsherr wasn’t a supremacist at all. The boy probably had sympathies to those idiots who didn’t understand that if you killed off all the humans, the mutant species would die out too, but he wasn’t a murderer.

 

No, Logan wasn’t too worried about Lehnsherr, metallokinetic or not. It was Xavier who gave him pause.

 

Shaw was careful to avoid mentioning Xavier’s ability, playing it down like Xavier was good for nothing but keeping Lehnsherr from going to prison. But like attracts like, and a powerful metallokinetic wasn’t going to partner up with a mutant who couldn’t do anything but make people sneeze or organize Lehnsherr’s paperwork. If Lehnsherr was powerful enough to make Shaw skittish, Xavier had to be the same.

 

Despite all his doubts about the shit Shaw was selling him, the man still smelled terrified. That alone, (plus the stone cold two million dollar payment) had been good enough for Logan.

 

He and Marie had tracked Lehnsherr and Xavier to New York City, only to have Marie run out to get Thai and come across Xavier along the way. (And by ‘along the way’, he meant—sit down next to her in the restaurant and pay for their meal with his real credit card.) The two men disappeared from the city before Marie even made it back to the hotel. But she came with the men’s offer to come to Westchester, to see where Lehnsherr and Xavier had taken Warren Worthington’s son.

 

And it was… a school.

 

The kids looked healthy, and as happy as kids got when school was in session. Not one looked like they were being abused, or trapped here against their will. But it only took one.

 

From the base of the wall, safely tucked away from view, Marie called out, “Xavier says he’d appreciate it if you’d stop skulking out here and come in, shug. You’re makin’ the little ones nervous.”

 

Logan glowered at her. “They can’t see me this far out.”

 

Marie cocked her head to the side. “He says he’s got two telepaths, four with an acute sense of smell, and at least a dozen who’ve been broken out of government facilities and get twitchy when they feel like they’re bein’ watched. He was gonna let you hang out here until I got bored and roamed in for supper, but already two of ‘em have dropped by his office to ask about you. Last he checked, some of the older students were roundin’ up the others to scare you off.”

 

“Tell ‘em to bring Worthington with ‘em.”

 

Marie popped up the wall, scrambling along the same trail Logan had carved into the rocks. “What are you—”

 

She shushed him and stared frantically around the sky before she pointed, “Look!”

 

“Look at…” he trailed off at the sight of a kid flying. With wings.

 

Logan had seen plenty of mutants with more than a bit of animal to them (himself included) but none with a pair of actual wings. With a few powerful strokes the kid shot up high, coasted for a moment, then dove for some of the younger children. They scrambled out of his path, and even from here Logan could hear them giggling over their modified game of tag.

 

“May I present Warren Worthington the Third.”

 

At the sound of the new voice Wolverine vaulted over the wall before he could think better of it, and found himself caught in midair. Xavier was a floppy-haired little thing, watching Lehnsherr with bemused eyes while the metallokinetic held Logan pinned to nothing. “Apologies. Erik seems to be under the impression that I’m incapable of taking care of myself.” Xavier’s eyes thinned, and Lehnsherr flinched. Logan smirked at the scolding that had to be going on in Lehnsherr’s head right now, and Lehnsherr stretched him in retaliation. Xavier glanced past Lehnsherr’s shoulder and interjected, “You do know that Mr. Howlett’s young companion is going to drain you dry if you don’t put him down?”

 

Lehnsherr looked to the side, gave Marie a once over and smirked. “I think I’d be alright with that.” Marie blushed and Logan saw red.

 

He lashed against Lehnsherr’s immovable hold and Xavier tutted, “Oh goodness. I think that perhaps you and I should retreat to a safe distance my dear.” He took Marie’s glove-covered hand with no fear, and tucked it into the crook of his elbow while loudly projecting just how much Marie reminded Charles of his own dear sister. “I can promise that I’ll stop them before they kill one another, and you and I can have a nice chat with Warren and the other students while these two continue to behave like children.”

 

@@@

 

> Pause for the deleted scene by readbyanalise010

 

@@@

 

By the time Logan and Erik (yes, now he was thought of as Erik) limped into the school, Marie was giving a lecture to the youngest students on the basics of controlling a touch-related mutation. Apparently it was a lot more complicated than just “don’t touch people unless you want to hurt them.”

 

Charles slipped up beside Logan from out of nowhere (and wasn’t that just getting irritating). He murmured, “I’m grateful you turned up when you did, I thought I was going to have to reconvene this class specially for her later in the week.” Logan grunted in confusion, and Xavier explained. “Marie has possibly the most extreme example of a touch-related mutation that I’ve ever seen. That has given her a multitude of tricks and experiences that might be helpful to any of these children in learning to control their own gifts. And, well,” Charles slipped his hands into his pockets and looked a little sheepish. “It’s good for them to see that their own mutations could be far more severe.”

 

Marie had gotten all of the children out of their chairs and ushered them into a clump on the floor. The more she spoke, the less tightly they held themselves. Some were beginning to slouch, uncurling from the protective little balls they assumed to make sure they never touched.

 

And Marie, she looked in her element. She didn’t have to be extra cautious to avoid contact with those who didn’t know better, and despite everyone knowing about her power, no one seemed scared. She was free here, free to be herself without that persisting terror that someone would understand what she could do and would hunt her for it.

 

Contrary to popular opinion, the Wolverine was not a stupid man. You didn’t live quite so long as Logan had without gaining some understanding of the way the world worked, and what was coming before it happened. It was all that life experience that let Logan push past the rush of pain, that he absolutely wasn’t thinking about, and instead go straight to acceptance that he couldn’t take Marie away from here.

 

In between blows, Erik had mentioned something about the X-Men, and they sounded right up Marie’s alley. She was always the one who encouraged Logan to take the cases where no one could pay them for their work, but a mutant still needed help. Now she could do that in between bouts of teaching kids to be comfortable in their own skin in the same way that nobody had ever done for her.

 

Logan turned on his heel, ready to walk out the door and leave Marie behind with an un-captured Lehnsherr and Xavier, only to have said telepath stand in his way with the furious expression of a bunny rabbit. “Can I help you, bub?”

 

“So help me Logan Howlett, if you leave her behind I will reach into your mind and leave you under the impression that you are a five-year-old girl.”

 

Logan raised one bushy eyebrow. “You can’t get in my head.”

 

“I admit, I takes a bit of force to slip through your barriers, and perhaps that force will break your barriers down, or perhaps it will put you in a coma. Either way, you are not leaving her behind in this house.”

 

@@@

 

Just before dinner, Marie stumbled back to the suite they’d been given to share. She practically glowed at the chance to be useful, to be something more than a pariah. She found the furniture kicked to the sides of the room to give Logan plenty of space to pace while he gnawed on a cigar that Charles refused to let him light. She stopped at the sight of him and demanded, “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Is Worthington really kidnapped?”

 

She was frantic, grabbing for the guns that they had stashed at the bottom of one of the bags. Logan grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her close. “It’s alright, kid. It’s alright.”

 

Marie sunk into the embrace for one moment before she reared back and smacked him in the chest. “What in hell happened then?”

 

Logan grunted at the impact and went back to pacing. Marie watched him for a moment, parsing his movements to figure out what kind of mood he was in, to know what had set him off. “Logan, what’s wrong?” she pleaded.

 

He stopped to stare outside the windows, taking in the gentle breeze rolling in and the sounds of children laughing while they scrambled back to the building for dinner. “I’m going.”

 

She stiffly began tucking the things back in her bag that she’d ripped out in the process of searching for her gun. “Wh-where are we going?”

 

“Not us, kid. Me.”

 

He couldn’t turn to look at the confusion on her face. It would be crippling, stripping him of all his desire to do the right thing. “What in the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout, Logan?”

 

“We can’t take Lehnsherr and Xavier to Shaw. I talked to Worthington. He’s here because Shaw tried to experiment on him, same as he did to Lehnsherr was he was a kid.”

 

“What?”

 

“Shaw’s a supremacist who gets his rocks off on abusing kids until he figures out what makes them strong. Lehnsherr was his favorite until he escaped.”

 

Marie sunk down to the empty bed, horror making her knees weak. They’d seen some terrible shit in their time hunting folks down, but never had a mutant done it to another mutant. “So, we’re goin’ ‘cause there’s no job here? If that’s the case we can stay a little while, Logan. Maybe protect these two when Shaw sends someone else after ‘em.”

 

“Can’t stay, Marie. When we don’t pick up for Shaw he’ll know we turned.”

 

“Well then ain’t it a hundred times better to stay here where we’ve got some kinda backup? You said yourself that Erik and Charles are powerful, ain’t it best to stick with them ‘til Shaw’s put down?”

 

Logan stuffed his cigar in his breast pocket and shouldered his pack. “For you.”

 

Marie stood. “What do you mean, ‘for me’?”

 

“You’re staying here, kid.”

 

“Like hell I am, Logan Howlett! You’re not leavin’ me behind while you hunt down this bastard!”

 

 “I’m not taking you with me.” Logan strode towards the door.

 

“You ain’t ever _taken_ me anywhere, Logan. I _choose_ to go with you. I go where you go.”

 

“Not this time.”

 

There were moments when Logan regretted teaching her quite so well as he had, because Marie landed a solid punch to his jaw that sent him to the ground. “Let’s get one thing straight, Logan. I ain’t leavin’ you. You’re my best friend. You’re my _partner_. And if you leave me here then I will hunt you down, smack you ‘round a little bit, and finish the job with you. You get that?” Logan forced himself up to his knees and grumbled something affirmative. Marie darted forward, getting into his face. “You got that!”

 

“Yeah kid, I got it.”

 

Marie glowered and knocked him back down. “I’m not a _kid_ , Logan. So help me, you’re gonna get that one of these days.”

 

Marie stormed out of the room and left Logan on the floor slowly piecing himself together. Some part of him knew better than to stumble after her, but he tried anyway. He stepped into the hall to find that Marie was already gone, and Xavier was slouched against the wall waiting for him. “Well, that went poorly.”

 

Logan snorted, and went to storm after her. Charles sidled up alongside Logan and murmured, “I am a firm believer that one shouldn’t make any monumental life decisions until one has had the chance to drink on them.”

 

“Don’t you mean ‘think’ on them?”

 

Charles clapped him on the back. “Not at all, my dear fellow.”

 

@@@

 

Logan and Erik were slouched across from one another in the wingback chairs settled in front of the fire, while Charles was sprawled back on the couch with his feet kicked up and over the arm. Charles had the bottom of the tumbler pressed to his forehead to soothe his headache. “I don’t understand.”

 

“You’re a telepath, Chuck. What in the hell don’t you get?”

 

“First off, she’s twenty-five.”

 

“Second off,” Erik added, “she’s stunning.”

 

“Third off,” Charles continued, with the slightest of glowers at Erik, “she adores you.”

 

“Like a father, Chuck.”

 

“Really? Because I don’t recall my eyes dilating or secreting extra hormones whenever _my_ father loomed over me.”

 

If Logan hadn’t been the tiniest bit terrified of what Charles would do to him if he lost his temper, he would’ve thrown the damn scotch bottle at Charles’s head. “You’re full of shit.”

 

“I’m fairly positive that if I can sense the fluctuation in her mind, and Erik can sense the fluctuation in her electrical signature, that means _you_ could smell it if you were actually looking instead of repressing your own attraction to her.”

 

Logan slouched in the chair, letting his head thump back. “I’m not a good man, Charlie.”

 

“Considering that you have chosen to protect Erik and I rather than take the rather sizable payday that was promised to you for our heads, I find that difficult to believe.”

 

Logan glowered at Erik. “Is he always like this?”

 

“Relentlessly optimistic? Yes. You should’ve seen him the first time we met, all I wanted to do was shout at him.” Erik paused and slowly dragged his eyes along Charles’s sprawled out form. “Well, amongst other things.”  

 

Logan snorted at the blush that ripped across Charles’s face. “That was easy.”

 

“It usually is,” Erik grinned. “It’s one of the perks of dating a good boy.”

 

“Subtle.”

 

“Fact.”

 

Logan dragged his gaze up from Erik’s patent leather shoes, to the expensive Italian suit. He didn’t need to speak to convey that he didn’t think Erik had ever once deserved the title of “bad.”

 

“You’re right,” Erik drolled, picking up on the unsaid commentary. “It’s not like Charles’s life is at all in jeopardy because of his association with me. And won’t be in jeopardy until I kill Shaw myself.”

 

Erik said it in a snide tone, like Logan was a fool for not putting the two together before. Logan would’ve snapped back something crass about how the boy obviously wasn’t that torn up about it, but Erik’s scent was deep and dark, with a cutting edge of determination. He was genuinely containing the impulse to slip away in the dead of night and not come back until Shaw was in a body bag. Logan would’ve asked why Erik had waited so long, but Charles chose that moment to reach out and tangle his fingers with Erik’s.

 

The telepath knew that someday his lover would have to handle the problem of Shaw before he became a real threat, but that day was not today. Logan had a thought about the kind of killing machine that Erik might’ve become if he didn’t have Charles standing next to him, without Charles playing better angels to Erik’s own ruthless tendencies. For all Logan knew, Erik might’ve grown up to become Shaw.

 

But their little story had nothing to do with Logan. Yes, Marie made him better, but Marie was a kid. (Logan’s hindbrain chose that moment to point out that Charles was so thin a strong breeze might’ve carried him away, and he doubted Charles had the strength to thrown a punch that would take down the Wolverine.)

 

“I’m not saying she shouldn’t stay…”

 

“No, you’re just saying that you should abandon her here to take care of herself while you run about the world doing adventurous things,” Charles replied, dryly. “I know how happy it makes me when Erik tries to leave me behind to ‘keep me safe,’ I can only imagine how thrilled it must make Marie.”

 

“You’re pushing it, Chuck.”

 

Charles actually popped up off the couch and shouted, “Then explain it to me!”

 

Logan wanted to yell back, he really did, but he was all too aware that there was a metallokinetic who would kill him, and it was difficult to find the will to shout at Charles in the first place. Rather than pick a fight, Logan took a long pull on his beer and dropped his head back to the chair. “She’d be happy here.”

 

“I’m certain of it. But that doesn’t explain to me why you’re so insistent on leaving.” Logan huffed out a sigh and Charles pressed on. “There’s a place for you too. I can only imagine what you have to teach the rest of us about self-defense, you would be brilliant at helping us locate children who might have a place here, and freeing those mutants who have been forced into captivity.” Charles smiled gently, “Basically all the things you’ve been doing before, now you could do them with our resources. With more people to look after you and Marie. And she’ll need help relearning control after I show her the way through her mental blocks.”

 

“What mental blocks?”

 

Charles arched up one eyebrow in surprise. “The mental blocks that are keeping her power at its most dangerous level.”

 

Erik sat up and stared at Charles, who just looked back and forth between the two other men before he mumbled, “Oh, neither of you picked up on that, then?”

 

“Not all of us are telepaths, Charles,” Erik said while Logan demanded, “What are you talking about?”

 

“Typically young mutants have their powers assert themselves in a sudden burst. One moment they’re entirely human, the next moment they’re firing plasma beams out of their eyes or listening to computers speak. Typically the power calms after that first initial burst into something more manageable.”

 

“Chuck!” Logan snapped, hurrying him along to the point.

 

“Yes, yes. I assume that the trauma of Marie’s first display of power was enough to put a block on her future development. In essence, her mind is stopping her power from calming to something that she can control.”

 

Logan just started at Charles for a moment before Erik translated, “She should be able to touch.”

 

 “What?” Logan’s voice cracked.

 

Erik took Logan by the arm and pushed him back into the chair that he didn’t quite remember getting out of. “She’ll need time and training, but she should be able to control how much her power does or doesn’t affect her daily interactions.”

 

The first emotion was relief, that someday Marie could have all the good things in life. That relief shifted to stark joy at all the things he could show her now that she wouldn’t have that gnawing fear that she might end up killing someone. And before Logan had the chance to really chart how his mind got there, he had the faintest of thoughts about what else they would be able to do if Marie didn’t have to worry about touching.

 

Logan had about seven seconds to rebuke himself and feel like a dirty old man before Charles glowered at him. “She’s twenty-five years old, Logan. Even with her powers she is more than capable of choosing who she would like for a lover, and who she would not.” Charles stomped off, grumbling something crass in German. Logan opened his mouth to retort, but Charles twisted on his heel and snapped, “Do you know what’s it like for a telepath? How many years I spent avoiding emotionally intimacy because people hated it when they could feel me touch their minds? Oh no, of course it’s ‘fine’,” Charles sneered, “when I’m using my gifts to help them sort through their problems, but heaven forbid I actually let my abilities express themselves naturally by brushing up against other people while we’re talking, or even worse, while we’re being intimate.”

 

Charles stomped forward and put his finger in Logan’s face. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Howlett. If there is anyone in this building who understands Marie’s isolation, it is _me_. And if you aren’t going to sod your infernal pride and admit that you adore her, she will find someone else to fulfill those needs. She’ll want it to be you, but a human being can only hold on so long before they need a connection from somewhere. If it’s not you,” Charles paused mid-rant and cocked his head to the side. “It will be someone. Perhaps the young man currently chatting her up outside.”

@@@

  
Logan vaguely recalled Charles shouting, then a rush of autumnal air as he went vaulting over a balcony that Erik had conveniently opened to avoid the shattered glass from the doors. Before Logan knew it, he had another mutant tossed across the yard and face down in the dirt. The boy groaned and tried to push himself back to his feet, and if it weren’t for Marie screaming, “Logan!” he probably would’ve gone in for a blow with the claws extended.

 

The boy had the common sense to go back inside (whether it was common sense or Charlie telling the kid to vacate the premesis, Logan didn’t know and he didn’t care). Logan turned to Marie with a feral and triumphant smirk, only to be met with Marie’s right hook. “What the hell, Logan!”

 

“He was…”

 

“Hitting on me, Logan! He wasn’t going to assault me, or attack me, he was hitting on me!”

 

“I know that!”

 

“So what’s the problem?” Logan stood there, with nothing to say. Or at least, nothing Marie would want to hear. “Oh, this isn’t about him, it’s about you.” She stormed away, only to whip around with a desperate look in her eye and plead, “You gotta get over this, Logan. Either you want me, or you don’t, and you’ve gotta pick.”

 

“Kid,” Logan groaned. “You know I can’t.

“No, actually, I don’t know a damn thing. Anytime I try to bring it up you make a joke about age.”

 

“Since we’ve got no idea how old I really am—”

 

“And we’ve got no idea how many lifetimes I’ve got floating ‘round my head!” Marie took a patient breath, forcing herself back to something calm. “You can’t do this, Logan. You are my best friend, and my partner, and the person I trust most in the world. And I can spend the rest of my life being that, just that. But if you’re not going to be with me, you have to be alright with someone _else_ being with me. You can’t tell me no every damn time and get upset when someone else says yes! Just because you don’t want me that doesn’t mean I have to spend the rest of my life alone!”

 

He should’ve said that it wasn’t about not wanting her. And it wasn’t about being partners, or friends, or loving her, or finding in her a reason that he actually wanted to stay alive. He should’ve said that she deserved a life better than the nothing he could give her. But none of that came out.

 

What came out was a growl while he stormed forward and caught her up in a kiss. They’d shared touches a dozen times over the years, him lending her strength. But those touches were perfunctory, born out of necessity rather than desire. This wasn’t the quick press of his fingertips to the skin around a wound, it was full contact, his palms to her neck, the vulnerable skin of her lips to his. He caught her into it, pressing her curves up against his harsh planes for the second kiss of her entire life and for him a number that he would never know. He felt her sigh against his lips, and all too soon there was a familiar burning rush and the world went dark.

 

@@@

 

Logan fumbled his way back to something remotely resembling consciousness at the sound of a heart monitor and the sweet magnolia smell of Marie. “You know,” she teased in the almost whisper that people liked to use in hospitals, “you could’ve mentioned that the Professor thinks he can help me learn to touch. Maybe then I wouldn’t have dropped you like a bag of dirt.”

 

“Didn’t wanna wait,” Logan mumbled. He forced his eyes to creak open just enough that he could take in her blush.

 

Marie caught his smirk and thumped him on the shoulder. “Erik said to warn you that when you’re not on the mend, he’s gonna to mock you about this until the Professor literally makes it impossible for him to use his tongue. And he said you should be careful, since that’s gonna take a while because he’s very, _very_ good with his tongue.”

 

“Uhhhg, I didn’t want to know that!”

 

“Neither did I,” Marie laughed. “But if I have to, you do too.”

 

Logan stretched out his hand to the side and uncurled his fingers. There was a moment of hesitation, then Marie took his hand and wrapped it tight between her gloved palms. “You’ve been down for about an hour. The doc said that in another two you should be right as rain.”

 

“And then we’re going after Shaw?”

 

“Erik wants to. The Professor is trying to get him to wait.”

 

“You tell ‘em that Shaw has been spreading the word that Lehnsherr’s a violent supremacist? That kinda talk isn’t safe for them, or the students.”

 

“Not yet. Erik’ll bust out of here the second he hears that, and I didn’t want him runnin’ off before you were up on your feet.” Without having to open his eyes, Logan could feel her mulling. He twisted his hand in her grip and hauled her up and out of her chair. Marie sprawled on top of him with a squeak, frantically flopping about to make sure that she didn’t catch his skin again. He left the soothing weight of his arm to rest against her shoulder blades, quietly waiting for her to calm. He wouldn’t have minded if she touched him, he never minded, but it always took some time for Marie to remember that little detail after she felt like she’d gone too far.

 

Soon enough she settled across his blanket-covered chest, head cradled on his ribs while he ran his fingers through her hair. She was settled, but not resting, and Logan waited until she finally sighed and murmured, “I think we should stay. Even after the two of you are done with Shaw.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Her head popped up to look him in the eye, even though his were still closed. “Really?”

 

“Charlie can’t help you if you’re not here to help.”

 

“Logan,” she groaned. “I think we should stay after that.”

 

“Me too, babe. Me too.”


End file.
